Come To Me My Angel
by tigersmeleth
Summary: She is bound as much to music as she is to life. She is the Queen of Sweet Music’s Throne. He always knew that she was his, she did as well, it was only a matter of time before she realized it. EC, set a few months after the ALW musical.
1. Chapter 1

**Come To Me My Angel**

by Tiger 4/27/06

**SUMMARY:** She is bound as much to music as she is to life. She is the Queen of Sweet Music's Throne. He always knew that she was his, she did as well, it was only a matter of time before she realized it. E/C, set a few months after the ALW musical.

**DISCLAIMER**: I in now way own the Phantom of the Opera, it's overall story, or it's characters. However, the plot of this story is my own.

**Prologue **

In the dark depths of the Opera House underground he waiter for her to come to him. He waited for his Angel of Music like a madman waited for the Angel of Death to release him from his torment. He longed for that precious breath of light to lift him from his darkness, but he dared not go seek the light himself for fear that the light would be extinguished. No, he would wait for her to come. He waited for her to seek out her Angel of Music to save her from the depths of sadness.

He thought back to the night she had left him, he thought back to that night many, many times. Her face when she had kissed him was not a resigned one as he had expected then, nor was it full of pity. He did not know what compassion and love looked like because he had never felt it before. When she kissed him with eyes that said she loved him now in her own fashion, he had to let her live. When she kissed him without revolting, and when she kissed him again and touched his face with n o trace of pity in her eyes, he had to set her free. So he let her leave with that boy.

Yes, the _Boy_, her suitor. The selfish brat who claimed to love his Christine and yet could not see past Little Lotte. The boy who already had everything and yet snatched the one heart that Erik always hoped would belong to him and him alone. But she never really went with the boy, he saw. He saw her eyes when she left, eyes full of pain and sorrow…those eyes that wept for him, and for her loss.

She had not wanted to leave him, though he set her free. She had wanted to stay! Though Christine did not know it, her eyes had told him that she would return. The joy Erik knew when he realized this! Once again, he had something to live for. Slowly, he rebuilt all that had been lost the night the mob came to his lair. Lovingly, and patiently, he wrote his music, and waited for his Angel to return.


	2. Chapter 2

**Come To Me My Angel**

**Chapter 2**

By Tiger 5/8/06

_"Christine, I love you…" his voice softly sang to her. She saw the tears that ran down his face as she placed her ring on his palm._

_I'm sorry, she thought sadly and turned away before he saw the tears in her own eyes. She held onto Raoul as they took the boat and left. She needed something safe to hold onto, something solid to guide her as she left the only life she had ever known._

Christine opened her eyes and saw blurriness. Quickly, she blinked the tears away and looked at the clock in the corner of the bedroom, four in the morning. Far to early to be awake and about. But she did not want to stay in her bed anymore, especially after dreaming about _him_. She signed and slipped out of the bed, careful not to disturb her sleeping husband. She shivered as she felt the chill go through her and quickly started a fire in the fireplace. Settled and curled into her chair, she stared into the fire, hoping that the warmth and glow of the flames would lull her to sleep.

They would not. The flames flickered as they greedily ate the logs. She was reminded only of the false fire in the middle of the stage, and the flickering stage candles that were in front of her. The flames seemed to mock her tonight, reminding her more and more of that night, when her life became so changed. He had sung to her there, in the house across the lake, asked her to make a choice, and she made it.

"Little Lotte, why must you be up at this hour?" Raoul asked as he walked up behind. "Come back with me to bed."

She smiled tiredly at him. The smile did not quite reach her eyes. "I am sorry for waking you. But I cannot go back to sleep. Dawn is almost here at any rate." She patted his hand and started to get up to duress and prepare for the day. _Little Lotte_, she thought sadly, _must I always be Little Lotte?_

"You dreamed of him again, didn't you?" There was no accusation in his tone, only weariness and sadness.

"No!" Christine tried to reassure him. "Of course not, Raoul! I could not sleep, that is all." But she lowered her eyes and turned away from him so that he could not read the truth in her eyes.

"Christine, love," he quietly said to her before she could walk away further. "How many times must we do this? You are a very good signer, but as your firend once told you, you have much work to do when it comes to acting." His tone was lighthearted and dry, though it was tinged with sadness.

She lowered her head, feeling like a child who was about to be punished.

"Are you unhappy with me, Christine?" he softly asked. "Do you regret marrying me?"

Christine whirled around to face him. "Of course not!" she exclaimed. "You have made me very happy, Raoul, I do love you."

"How Christine? How do you love me? Do you love me as a childhood friend or do you love me as a lover?" He felt almost frantic as he probed her for answers.

"I-I-" she stammered, caught off guard by the questions he threw at her. This was not their normal routine. Suddenly, she couldn't bear it anymore.

"Oh, Raoul," she cried and threw herself into his arms. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Raoul held her as she cried. He closed his eyes, unwilling to face that reality was quickly coming. He was not a stupid man. Young and naïve perhaps, but not stupid. Though he tried to shut the feeling away many times, he had seen this day would come. The day when he would have to let her go. He had known that today would come when he saw the pain in his Christine's eyes when they left the burning Opera Populaire.

He savoured the feeling of holding his Little Lotte, and relished that he still could provide some comfort to her. He opened his eyes to find her trembling. He knew what she was afraid of. She was afraid that he would take her rejection badly, as her Phantom had. He shuddered to think of the deformed creature and his lasso, but did not voice his thoughts.

"Little Lotte," he whispered to her, kissing the top of her head. "I would give anything to manke you happy." He paused as the tears welled in his eyes, not wanting to say the words he had to say, but knowing he had to.

"I would give you freedom from myself and this marriage if you wish it," He felt her grip him tighter, and for a moment, he felt a flicker of hope. His hopes were dashed with her words.

"Thank you, Raoul," she softly said. She craned her neck to kiss his cheek. "Had Little Lotte not died when her father did, she would have chosen you." She took his hands and held them to her heart.

"I will always love you, as a dear friend, but nothing more."

Raoul nodded his understanding. And he understood, finally with clarity why she chose the Phantom over him. How could he compete with a man willing to give everything to his Little Lotte? The Phantom gave her his love, his music, his very soul, he could give Christine a life of song, a life that Raoul could not give to his Vicomtess.

"He gave you his music, made your song take wing," Raoul whispered. "You alone could make his song take flight."

Christine stiffened as Raoul repeated Erik's last words to her. She remembered all too well the anguish in Erik's voice when he sang those words to her as she fled his lair with Raoul. The guilt that she ahd felt since that night threatened to cursh her heart until she could no longer hear it. She turned to flee from Raoul and his kind eyes, from her memories, from everything.

Raoul caught her before she could get very far. She strugged to be out of his grasp, but he refused to let her go. He wanted her to realize the consequences of her actions. He was not a cruel man by nature, the last thing he wanted to do was to bring up painful memories and reduce his wife to tears.

"Cry, Little Lotte, cry," he murmured to her, stroking her hair. He rocked her back and fourth as she cried her pain. "Let go of your guilt."

Christine let herself cling to him as she had that fateful night, as something safe, something solid.


	3. Chapter 3

**Come To Me My Angel**

**Chapter 3**

By Tiger 6/30/06

A/N: I'm sorry everyone for waiting so long before updating! I'm not going to bore all of you guys with an excuse, so we'll leave it at this. However, I will be posting two chapters a day until this story is finished!

Chapter 3

"Vicomtess," Madame Giry stoically exclaimed. Though her face showed no emotion, her eyes clearly showed her surprise. "You have returned."

Christine smiled. Madame Giry had not changed at all. She was still the strict ballet mistress who had the occasional tendency to state the obvious.

"Oui, madame," she replied. She saw how Madame Giry took note of the valise she held in her hand, as well as the suitcase by her feet.

"And the Vicomte?"

"The Vicomte and I will not be married for much longer," Christine softly explained. "He has gone to see his lawyer for a separation filing. I have returned to stay."

Madame Giry nodded with a small smile. "Welcome home, child." She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she led Christine and her suitcase into her rooms.

"You wish to sing again I suppose?" Madame Giry asked, though she already knew the answer.

"Yes," Christine looked at her with shining eyes. "But there is something I wish to do first. Is he still here, Madame? Is it still possible for me to speak with him once more? To right a wrong?"

Madame Giry's eyes soften a little at Christine's distress, but showed no other signs, for she too had to right a past wrong with the same man. "I do not know, child. That is an answer you must seek on your own." She gathered her skirts about her. "Come," she instructed Christine. "We shall return you to your old dressing room."

"My old dressing room?" the younger woman asked. She clearly remembered everything, especially the mirror. "You mean to say that one one else has taken it?"

"Of course not," Madame Giry replied with a small chuckle. "Who would have wanted the room that the Opera Ghost once haunted?"

"Quite true, I suppose," Christine answered with a smile. The smile froze on her face when the door opened. Her heart stopped. The room was exactly as she had left it, even the large mirror was still intact. The passage to her Erik was still a secret, no one had thought to go through the prima donna's room in their madness and panic that night.

"Go on," Madame Giry urged, pushing Christine forward with her cane. "I will speak to Messiers Andre et Firmin of your return." With that, the stately ballet mistress closed the door and left Christine alone.

Christine stood in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do now that she was here. Was he even still in the opera house? She knew that the mob had not been kind to his belongings when they found his lair. Perhaps they had blocked all of the passages and he had run from the opera house when he saw her leave with Raoul. Sadness came through like a wave as she completed the thought. It was too late then too late for her to do anything.

_Not all is lost_, she thought. Christine had sensed something, a presence entering the room. She closed her eyes to block the tears of relief. She knew that presence! She almost laughed at her giddiness, but she cared not to. Who knew what would happen if she did, she did not know how her old teacher would take her coming back after betraying him so.


End file.
